


All It Took

by urabowllicker



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meeting, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Please Forgive me, Random - Freeform, airport, au drabble about larry's first meeting, i don't know what this is, i'm just in too deep, just fun, larry stylinson - Freeform, short Little story, this has no plot and no purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 10:43:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urabowllicker/pseuds/urabowllicker
Summary: Imagine Harry and Louis meeting online, starting to talk and fall in love over calls and texts. This is how they finally meet. Or something.





	All It Took

All it took was one sighting of a brown mop of hair to make him warm inside. To confirming to him that what he had felt through the technological wonders of phones and computer screens wasn’t something he could just brush aside, or something he had imagined. As soon as his face comes into view, even before he has actually seen him he knows that the feelings he has kept partially hidden for months aren’t just felt by him. They aren’t only existent on one side of a coin. They have been felt on both sides of the messages and late night phone calls. The hope and anticipation in his eyes as he scans the arrival hall looking for him tells him more than every word he has said since they started talking daily. There’s something in his look, something unexplainable, that makes him feel like he’s standing under a warm waterfall and flying at the same time. As if butterflies haven’t started fluttering in his stomach, but started attempts to beat their way out of him. He’s in a sea of people at Heathrow’s airport, but there’s also only them two in this room. His eyes aren’t just looking for him, they are searching, as a sailor full of his last hope searches for a lighthouse when his boat is caught in a storm. Like a child who knows that something spectacular is going to happen in front of their eyes, they just don’t know where yet. 

He can pinpoint the exact moment that he sees him. The exact moment when he, from the other side of the hall, can feel his relieved exhale. All the anxious air leaving him in one breath, because the worry that they have both carried until this moment, the worry that the other person might just not be on the same page as them, maybe not even in the same book, that worry evaporates in almost visible clouds above them both. Two smiles simultaneously fills two faces in the crowd, and they both start moving towards each other at the same time. Despite carrying bags and dragging one too he seems to be moving almost faster than himself, not that it really matters to anyone except the fluttering in his heart when he notices. None of them loses sight of the other’s eyes a single time while making their way through hundreds of people pressed together in hugs and meetings. No one knows if it’s luck or faith, or both, that makes sure that not a single person comes in their way while they’re moving. This is lucky, because neither of them would have noticed, much less stopped, if that would have happened. All they see is the other’s happiness radiating of the both of them. The absolute relief that their waiting is over after all these months, the unbreakable sharing of affection towards each other after so much time spent talking, sharing, confessing, telling. 

They stop. Just enough space is between them that only one of them will have to take a step to be within distance to touch the other. They both stand still while looking at each other, trying to tell if the other one wants to hug, wrap up into each other, cling to each other, as both of them do. It takes a few seconds. A few seconds that might have felt like hours or just like no time at all, before one of them moves. If it’s one or the other or both, no ones cares to take notice. Because suddenly they are with each other. Arms wrapped around the other as if afraid that letting go would physically hurt. Making sure no space is left between them, making sure it would be doubtful if air could fit in between the two of them. On face buried in the other’s neck, one cheek pressed into the others hair. It’s the first time. One that they both hope is one of many firsts. They know each other inside and out, experienced to detect slight changes in tones or movements of each other to know when something’s wrong, or about to happen, or has changed. They can recite each other’s family connections, each other’s favourites, write a list of each other’s fears, dreams, hopes, happiness, life. They have learned to know exactly what the other one wants to say, even when it’s too hard to voice it out loud. They know each other better than themselves. 

Still. It’s a first. It’s a magnificent first. A first that has been waited on, anticipated, sought after, longed for, for too long, through too many calls and texts. A first that they both doubted they would survive without much longer. It’s a first that they will always remember. It’s the first time they hold each other. Hold each other. Touch each other. Breathe each other’s air. Smell each other’s shampoo. Feel each other’s skin. The first time they pull their hand through each other’s hair. First time their hearts beat next to each other. It’s the moment when he wraps his arms around his neck and he wraps his around his waist. The moment when his heels no longer touch the floor, and then neither does his toes. The moment when he gathers him up in his arms, gathers. The moment when he clings onto him, clings. Without the other one knowing, they both, at the same time, send a silent Thank You up into the air. Because neither of them have ever felt more thankful for anything, ever.


End file.
